


We Forge Our Own Crowns

by airamcg, CompletelyDifferent, DrJekyl, TheBlindBandit



Series: The Rewriter [1]
Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Bismuth is very gay for everyone and just doesn't know it yet, Canon-Typical Violence, Cotton Candy Garnet, F/F, First Meetings, Gem War, Gen, Homeworld Hierarchy (Steven Universe), Pre-Series, Prequel, Rebellion, Slavery, terrifying renegade pearl, why don't we all marry each other?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-10-17 15:26:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10596837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/airamcg/pseuds/airamcg, https://archiveofourown.org/users/CompletelyDifferent/pseuds/CompletelyDifferent, https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrJekyl/pseuds/DrJekyl, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBlindBandit/pseuds/TheBlindBandit
Summary: The life of a bismuth is simple: build and repair.But one Bismuth finds hers growing complicated as, during routine maintenance of Gem quarters on the young colony planet Earth, she strikes up an odd camaraderie with three quartzes: Biggs Jasper, Crazy Lace Agate, and Snowflake Obsidian. Meanwhile, tensions over the increasingly disruptive rebel attacks escalate and Bismuth will need to figure out for herself what loyalty truly means.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of The Rewriter series, and serves as a prequel for "Selaginella Lepidophylla". Although the two fics are interrelated, they can both be read independently.

Bismuth had to give this to quartzes: they sure knew how to party.

It felt like it had been no time at all since the Earth’s first quartz vein had popped out of its first Kindergarten. There’d been celebrations across the planet— across the whole empire too, most likely. Gems of every caste and rank had taken it upon themselves to express just how _thrilled_ they were by the widely broadcast, triumphant announcements that Pink Diamond’s new colony was proving to be all that anyone could have hoped for.

By all accounts, these newmades were a high quality bunch. Earth was abundant with silica deposits— perfect for creating big, strong hunks of quartz, ones with good heads on their shoulders to boot. Their training had progressed at record speed and was almost over, so they’d had a big celebration the previous night— one last hurrah on the planet they’d emerged from, before being shipped off to the front lines, likely never to see the rocky outcroppings of their origin again.

Their abandoned quarters were left half-wrecked in the aftermath of it all. About a third of the cubbies were nothing but messy holes, without a single trace of the striking and immediately recognizable clear-cut silhouettes they’d started out as. Even the ones that had survived more or less intact were pockmarked with impact craters and fist imprints. The wrestling matches must've gotten _seriously_ out of hand. And what exactly had gone down to account for the state of the floor was anyone’s guess.  

Bismuth wished she could have seen it. Must’ve been way more entertaining than the droning sing-alongs to ancient chants praising the glorious shine of the Diamonds that the elites hosted during their own celebrations. Or, well, Bismuth supposed that was what they did, like in all the holo-casts. She wasn’t exactly the first (or tenth, or hundredth) pick whenever all the fancy little pearls were sent out with the formal invitations.

Among all the accidental damage, Bismuth found markings that were clearly deliberate graffiti. Small stuff, mostly. Gems who’d carved their full designations into their cubbies, or friendly insults into their comrades'. Tiny attempts at leaving a trace of themselves behind, as safe and as close to permanent as they could get. And as sacrilegious as it may have been, Bismuth had to admit that whoever carved the moustache into Yellow Diamond's statue had the soul of an artist.

Laying her buckets of mortar onto the ground, Bismuth realized she’d feel kinda bad about covering it all up.

She sighed, and cut her moment of reflection short. Never any point in thinking about that kind of stuff. No one knew when the second batch of Earth-quartzes would emerge, but when they did, they’d need nice, shiny quarters to live in. Bismuth had been ordered to make them, and fully intended to do so.

Bismuth stepped into the cubby nearest to her, surveying it with practiced eyes. Not too bad here— the cubbies that seemed to have taken the brunt of the damage were focused around the middle of the wall. She _could_ tackle that first, but since the quarters were arranged like a grid, it’d be more efficient to work her way along the rows, then going up a level each time she completed one. She hummed a bit of acknowledgement to herself, got out her trowel, heaped it with mortar, and got to work on the web of cracks near the far canyon wall’s base.

She worked diligently for the first row and a half. It wasn’t particularly hard work, for either the body or the mind, but it was satisfying. Getting to fix something right up, seeing it become nice and whole again all thanks to her, always felt good. There was something soothing in the steady rhythm of the trowel, too. Up, down, up, down, up, down—

“What’re you doing?”

Bismuth jerked up at the sudden question, gouging out the fresh bit of mortar she’d just been smoothing over. Without looking to see who had asked it, she called back, “My work.”

There was another pause, long enough that the entire side wall was perfectly level and half-dry, and Bismuth thought the asker had been satisfied—

“What’s your work?”

Bismuth huffed, lowered her trowel, turned, and leaned out of the cubby she had been working on. Staring up at her was a quartz. Some sort of picture jasper, judging by the thin banding in dark shades of grays and browns, though Bismuth wasn’t sure which kind specifically.

“I’m fixing the cubbies up,” Bismuth said, and then turned to go back to her job.

“Oh! Well, thank you!”

Bismuth grunted, and scooped more mortar onto her trowel.

“It’s just, that’s my cubby you’re working on!”

“Well, I’ll be out of your hair soon,” Bismuth said. As long as the jasper stopped talking, and let her get on with her work.

“No, no, it’s okay!” There was a thud as the picture jasper leapt up into the next-door cubby. “I don’t need it right now. And anyway, there’s lots of empty ones I can use. I know no one’ll mind!”

Bismuth hummed in half-hearted acknowledgement, not taking her eyes off her trowel. She was doing her best to stay focused on her work, but she swore she could _feel_ the eyes on the back of her neck. Was the jasper watching her?

So it seemed, at a quick glance. And several such glances later, she still didn’t seem to be in any hurry to leave or find something else to occupy herself with. Surely watching mortar dry couldn’t be _that_ fascinating? Still, the jasper hung around as Bismuth finished off the repair work on her cubby under her watchful gaze. Bismuth mumbled a quick warning at her to stop her from touching the mortar until it had dried and set, and then moved on to the next cubby, figuring that’d be the end of it. But even with her own cubby free for her use, the jasper followed, sticking her head out and craning her neck to watch as Bismuth worked.

It wasn’t that Bismuth _minded_ , exactly. It was just that the jasper was big, even for her type, and she was blocking what little light there was available.

Bismuth finished that cubby, and the two after it, when a new voice carried across the canyon: “BIGGS JASPER!”

“ _Oh_ ,” the jasper said, softly. Then she yelled back, “YES MA’AM?”

“COME HERE!”

Bismuth didn’t need to look to recognize that the voice belonged to an agate— to recognize that the jasper should move along and do as she was told.

But instead, the jasper called back, “ONE MINUTE!”

Bismuth froze.

This jasper had just spoken back to an _agate_.

She waited, expecting the screaming to start. Or the beatings. Or both.

But when the agate shouted back, she didn’t sound angry, just impatient.

“YOU HAVE TRAINING!”

The jasper sighed. “OKAY! COMING!” she shouted back, heaved out another sigh, and then perked up amusingly fast when she turned to face Bismuth again. “Thanks, Bismuth!”

“Uh… you’re welcome?” Bismuth said. She paused her work to watch as the jasper jumped away and ran across the canyon to join the agate.

Training, huh? That explained it. This wasn’t a fully fledged quartz warrior yet. Just a newmade, filled with all of a newmade’s curiosity.

Bismuth shook her head. Lucky she had such a nice agate commander.

 

* * *

Turned out that the biggs jasper actually had _two_ agate commanders.

One was the crazy lace agate that Bismuth had seen earlier, distinctive in bright patterns of swirling whites, reds and greens. The other was a snowflake obsidian, her gemstone riddled with impurities which caused her otherwise black body to be speckled with white.

While the jasper bore a Pink Diamond Insignia on her chest, the agates’ uniforms bore the colors of all four Diamonds. They were proper, battle hardened quartz warriors— or they had been. It seemed they had been retired from formal military service and enlisted to whip Earth’s newmades into shape— only to be left with nobody but the one biggs jasper to train.

The quartzes did a lot of practicing and sparring right there in the quarters, so Bismuth got to listen to their drills as she worked. The rhythmic _clang, clang, clang_ of sword against sword was a pleasantly steady beat to follow.

Eventually, though, the rhythm was broken as she ran out of mortar, and had to make a quick errand for raw materials. Bismuth lugged each of them back to the quarters separately, deciding to prepare the mortar there and have it be nicely fresh. She measured out the sand, water, and cement into big containers, and began to stir. The work was simple enough that she could watch the quartzes train as she labored.

The obsidian was the one on active duty, taking the jasper on in one-on-one combat.

It should have been an obvious fight. Earth was a fertile planet, and the quartzes it had produced were fine specimens. This jasper was particularly big, with a barely-restrained, almost bouncy energy large enough to match. Obsidians, meanwhile, were an old model, _real_ old, from before Bismuth had emerged, back when they were still getting quartzes from volcanoes. This obsidian was smaller than a modern agate, less muscular, and looked like the jasper could snap her in half.

But with age came experience. The obsidian rarely let the jasper land a blow, always sidestepping at the last moment, or ducking underneath large, crushing arms, or rolling away and out of reach. What hits she did take were obviously calculated, barely doing any damage, and getting her in a better position to counter-strike.

Bismuth couldn’t help but admire her— her speed, her strategy, the sleek shape of her body, the way the light reflecting off her form made her seem to sparkle with every bit of movement…

“It’s a shame,” the lace agate said.

Bismuth almost jumped. She hadn’t even noticed the other Gem coming to join her, which was impressive, for someone as big as an agate.

“What is?” Bismuth asked, looking back down at the container in her lap and stirring her mortar more quickly. Didn’t want to look like she was slacking.

“Biggs Jasper,” the lace agate said with a sigh. “Having to keep her back like this.”

‘ _Keep her back_ ’? Ah, so that was the reason she’d stayed here, when the rest of her vein had already been sent off-colony. Bismuth wouldn’t have dared to pry, but since the agate had so conveniently brought it up…

“She looks fine to me. Sure, no match for a vet, but that’s just gotta be experience.”

“It wasn’t just against us. Even against the other newmades…” She shook her head. “Don’t get me wrong. She’s big and strong. And she tries. Stars, she tries. But when it comes to focusing, _you’d_ probably make a better warrior.”

Bismuth laughed. “Maybe we should test that out.” She flexed an arm. “I mean, have you taken a look at these?”

The crazy lace agate giggled. “Oh my. We better not. You might go and put all us quartzes out of a job.”

Bismuth was trying to come up with a witty retort, when there came a loud _clang!_ from the fighters. She looked up just in time to see the jasper’s sword go flying out of her hand.

Disarmed. The jasper’s mouth flew open in surprise as she tried to dodge the obsidian’s saber. She didn’t last long. There was a flash of light as the blade caught the sun, and then the saber was being pressed against jasper’s belly, right next to her gem. A single move, and her form would have been destroyed.

Instead, the obsidian withdrew her sword. She wasn’t scowling; she wasn’t smiling. Her face was cool and unreadable.

“Stop watching the weapon,” she said. “Watch your opponent’s body. It will tell you where the weapon _will_ go, instead of where it _is_.”

“But—” the jasper began.

The obsidian shook her head, and pointed for the jasper to go retrieve her sword.

Bismuth stopped her stirring and checked the mortar’s consistency. Nicely even and just the right thickness. She looked over at the wide, bowed shoulders of the defeated jasper one last time and sighed. It wouldn’t do to let the mortar set.

“Gotta get back to work,” she mumbled in passing to the Lace Agate, and hefted her pots up.

 

* * *

After nearly two straight days of work, Bismuth had almost finished up all the repairs— only two rows of cubbies left— when she got interrupted yet again. Not by the jasper, this time, but the Lace Agate. “Messenger here for you!”

Bismuth was already drawing breath to shout back that the messenger could come up and say whatever needed to be said _herself_ , when she looked down the cliff-face to see that this wasn’t actually true.

The messenger was a pearl.

(“Whoa!” she could hear the biggs jasper saying from across the field. “Is that a pearl, Snowflake? She’s so pretty!”)

Of course she was pretty, with her sharp features and pale purple skirts. That was what a pearl was _made_ for. And of course a pearl wouldn’t be clambering up quartz cubbies or screaming her voice raw. So Bismuth jumped down to her, landing right beside her. The ground shook a little at the force, but the pearl didn’t even blink.

“You are required by my master Iolite,” the pearl said, simply and evenly, her hands clasped demurely in front of her.

“Can’t it wait?” Bismuth grumbled. “I’m almost finished here.”

The pearl’s voice wavered only a tiny bit. “You are required by my master Iolite _immediately_.”

Bismuth was tempted to dismiss her, to finish her work and head off only as soon as she was done. But an order was an order, and Bismuth knew that if she didn’t obey, the pearl would be the one taking the brunt of punishment for their tardiness.

She sighed. “All right then. Let’s go.”

They warped off. It took a moment for Bismuth to figure out where she’d been taken; the air was so full of dust and grit. She blinked it out of her eyes, and focused on the four looming silhouettes in front of her.

Ah. Right. The Memorial of Life.

A stunning tribute to the Empire’s leaders, and the gift they had bestowed upon this humble colony. Four full-sized statues of the Diamonds, standing in a circle, arms stretched out towards the seed of all Gem-kind: the Injector.

At least, that was how the Memorial was _supposed_ to look. Right now, there was a giant crater where the Injector statue used to be, and the Diamonds looked like their fronts had been burned off.

Bismuth stared. “What happened here?”

The pearl said nothing, just pointed towards a tight pack of bismuths standing next to the foot of Blue Diamond’s statue, then backed away, head bowed. Bismuth headed towards them and repeated the question.

“It was those rebels,” answered one of them. (Cut-2AI, Bismuth was pretty sure.)

“Those _terrorists_ , you mean,” sneered bismuth Cut-5AL.

Bismuth shook her head. Those crazy rebels were persistently annoying, but this? “How’d they do it?”

“Got their hands on some Core fuel,” said a bismuth that Bismuth didn’t immediately recognize.

Bismuth whistled, low and long. That stuff was used in the most advanced of space crafts— it packed a real punch. It was a while ago, but Bismuth clearly remembered the day-to-day of working on the foundations of a shipyard’s maintenance hangar, and the depths to which she’d been required to dig when it came to the fuel storage, just to be safe. “Anyone hurt?”

“No, miraculously,” said Cut-5AI. “A few bruised beryls, and a morganite got poofed.”

“It was close, though,” said another bismuth. “They shoved that canister right under the Injector and totally out of sight. No one woulda known it was about to blow if the rebels themselves hadn’t been screaming their heads off.”

Bismuth was just about to wonder out loud why anyone would go to the lengths of arranging an attack like that only to ruin their own plans at the last minute, but then the Iolite supervising the reconstruction yelled, “You weren’t made to yammer!”

True enough.

Her fellow bismuths had done well, it seemed— clearing away debris, putting in temporary supports, fixing up what damage they could, and keeping it from getting worse. But the monument was so massive, there were some things they just couldn’t do separately. Like filling in the crater, or raising the replacement Injector statue high and proud.

The five bismuths held hands, became one, and got to work.

 

* * *

When she unfused, Bismuth didn’t come back to herself. She had always been herself. But she did come back to a _smaller_ herself.

She cracked her knuckles as she readjusted, taking a moment to survey the work they’d done. As she did so, she noticed a little purple figure still waiting at the edge of the construction area. Iolite’s pearl, from earlier. Her gaze kept flicking from bismuth to bismuth with an air of something resembling consternation, clearly trying (and failing) to pick out the one she needed.

Bismuth decided to extend a metaphorical helping hand. She strolled over and asked, “Looking for someone specific?”

“Yes. Bismuth Facet-3X1W Cut-4AB?”

“You’re in luck. That’s me.”

That barest ghost of relief flashed across the pearl’s face. “You have another assignment.”

Bismuth groaned. “Seriously? This again? I haven’t even finished my current one.”

The pearl said nothing.

“Fine. Can you tell me what it is, then?”

“I have not been authorized to give that information, ma’am.”

Of course not. That would be too _easy_.

But Bismuth perked up when the pearl rattled off her carefully memorized message about how her master Iolite was waiting at this sector’s Forge to give Bismuth Facet-3X1W Cut-4AB her new assignment briefing.

Bismuth _loved_ forges.

Oh, she knew how some of her fellows felt. They complained, whenever they couldn’t put off going to fetch that girder any longer, that forges were too cramped, too hot, too busy, too dirty. But all of that just made this particular Bismuth love them all the more. The dancing firelight was exhilarating, filled with power and promise. The constant clank of hammers on anvils, of metal against metal. The detail that went into every individual piece, from weapons to jewelry to magical tools, each one unique, something wholly its own.

(And she wouldn’t be much of a bismuth if she didn’t love getting her hands dirty.)

Iolite’s pearl led Bismuth through the Forge, past the many hematites working diligently at their stations. Bismuth did her best to catch glimpses of what they did as she passed, no matter how brief. Finally, she was presented to Iolite herself. The pearl drifted to stand at her master’s left-hand side, and Bismuth straightened, fixing all her attention on her supervisor. Despite her efforts, she was uncomfortably aware of the Fire Agate standing just to the right of the Iolite, constantly scanning the entire Forge for any sign of disobedience or delay.

Thankfully, it turned out to be a routine debriefing. A check-up, for the most part, with Bismuth reporting on the progress at both the Memorial of Life and the Quartz Quarters. She got a little worried when she admitted she still hadn’t finished the repairs and the Iolite’s brows furrowed, but it turned out not to matter after all. “You’ll continue to be stationed there,” Iolite ordered. “We need more cubbies.”

Bismuth blinked. “Already?”

“Yes. Latest reports indicate that the next batch from the Kindergarten is going to be even larger than the first. Estimated 20% increase in quartz production. We’ll need at least another fifty cubbies.”

Bismuth couldn’t restrain herself. “That’s wonderful!”

“Yes.” Iolite smiled, a smug combination of pleased and proud. “Those terrorists can blow up as many monuments as they like, but they can’t stop progress.”

Bismuth was dismissed shortly afterwards, and given the direction to go get blueprints and equipment. She didn’t need either— she’d been building quartz quarters for centuries, and could practically do it with her eyes closed. The only tools she needed for the job were her own two hands.

She didn’t say any of that out loud, though. It would have been disrespectful, and anyway, the errand gave Bismuth an excuse to poke around the Forge a little longer.

Not _too_ long, though. As much as she appreciated the chance to bask in the lovely waves of heat as she watched the hematites at their stations, she found herself unexpectedly eager to get back to her own.

 

* * *

Quartzes were the sturdy pillars that held up every colonization effort. Big and strong and obvious, and undeniably necessary. But the foundations— crucial to success but buried deep underground; heads bowed as they quietly did their duty, bearing the load without protest— were bismuths.

At least, that was how it was supposed to be, according to every overseer on every colony-in-the-making Bismuth had ever answered to.

Earth was shaping up to be... something a bit different.

“Hey, Bis, you done with that soon?” said Crazy Lace Agate, always oddly cheery for an agate, always lively, and always impatient.

“You shouldn’t be talking to her,” muttered Snowflake Obsidian, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Why not? It’s _our_ quarters she’s working on,” chimed in Biggs Jasper, her arms casually, almost irreverently, folded behind her head. “We know best what we need ‘em to be like.”

“ _You_ don’t know anything, Biggs.”

“Come on. It’s draughty. Leave Biggs alone and let Bis fix the stuff up already,” said Lace.

Snowflake Obsidian had never been a Gem of many words, so a put-upon harumph was her only reply.

Bismuth scraped the last of the mortar off of her trowel. “Actually,” she called, “all the ‘stuff’ has been fixed.”

She hopped down from the top row of cubbies, and the quartzes left behind any pretense of their training to wander towards her. The four took a moment to stand back and appreciate the work, slowly taking it in. The Quartz Quarters looked as good as new now, each cubby clean and cozy and tidy as if no wild wrestling match or spin-dash competition had ever taken place.

“They look real nice,” Crazy Lace Agate said. “ _Real_ nice.”

Snowflake nodded, and even gave one of her rare smiles. Bismuth couldn’t help but beam right back, feeling prouder of this simple patch-up job than of any magnificent spire she’d ever taken part in building.

Biggs, however, didn’t seem happy at all. “So you’ll be heading off now… right?”

“Well, I _have_ been given another assignment…” Bismuth trailed off, catching Crazy Lace’s knowing eye.  

Biggs still hadn’t really learned that plain common Gems like them served at the pleasure of the elite ones. She should have by now, having been left behind while the rest of her vein went off to war and glory. There wasn’t anything to be had from hoping, but hurting. But Biggs’s face fell so far it seemed to drag her whole body with it. Even her shoulders slumped theatrically.

“Oh,” she said in a voice far too small for such a big gem.

Bismuth could have left her hanging, drawn the news out for a bit more of a reaction… but Biggs’s eyes were so pleading, her pout so dejected, that Bismuth couldn’t stand to.

“Yeah,” she said, and felt a grin bigger than Biggs herself stretch her mouth wide.  “Another assignment right here in this quarry!”

The Jasper stared at her in disbelief for a moment, before throwing her hands into the air, and releasing a loud ‘ _WHOO!_ ’

Behind her, Snowflake slowly shook her head.

But even her small smile grew wider.

 

* * *

Building quartz cubbies might have been more difficult than repairing them, but it was hardly the most complex thing Bismuth had ever built. Not by a long shot. Stars, it was the first thing she’d been taught to make, back when she’d been a newmade herself.

She could still remember her teacher. Good ol’ Bismuth Facet-1A2B Cut-2CJ. Real patient Gem. Always took time with her work.

Bismuth wondered where she was, now. The other side of the galaxy, most likely.

Regardless: point was, cubbies were pretty easy. First, she got her measuring tool from her belt, just to double check the sizes. She marked the shapes out in chalk. Then she shapeshifted her arm into a pickaxe, and went at the stones with all her might.

Crazy Lace Agate gave her a long whistle of appreciation at the show of strength.

Bismuth grinned, accepting the praise, even though it wasn’t particularly well earned in this case. The rock there was limestone, one of the softest minerals out there. You _could_ make Gems out of it, but not particularly high quality ones, which was probably why this stretch of land had been reserved for living space.

They should see her carving out granite. That would _really_ give ‘em something to whistle about.

Biggs, too, was impressed by her work, though not nearly so much for her strength as for her skill. Bismuth caught the Jasper standing a little off to the side one day, scowling at her hand, pressing the fingers together and bending them into weird, uncomfortable shapes.

“How do you do it?” Biggs finally cried, her frustration winning out.

‘ _Do what?_ ’ Bismuth was about to ask, when something about how intently Biggs was focusing on her own hand suddenly clicked. “Shapeshifting?” Bismuth said instead, with a chuckle. “Well, it ain’t hard. You just gotta—”

She cut herself off, not sure if it was something she should be teaching anyone, let alone Gems of a different cut— and let alone quartzes.

It wasn’t. Crazy Lace Agate was clear enough about that. “It’s just not done.”

“Bismuth does it,” pointed out Biggs.

“Bismuths are meant to be adaptable,” said Bismuth, allowing herself a touch of pride.

“We quartzes are ready-made with the most ideal form for our job.” Crazy’s voice was gentle, but she was frowning; the expression looked odd on her face. “To change the shape of our forms… most would call it a disgrace.”

“Better disgraced than dead,” Snowflake muttered.

An uncomfortable silence followed.

It was only broken by a strange red creature with pointy, twitchy ears creeping into the valley. Biggs, fascinated and immediately distracted from her earlier disappointment, tried to approach it, but the small, furry thing startled too easily. She made to run after it, and went crashing into the nearby forest. The Agates, in turn, were at her heels, while Bismuth was left behind to fend for herself. She didn’t have to wait long, however. The quartzes returned a few minutes later, leaves and twigs sticking out from their thoroughly mussed hair, the creature nowhere in sight— but all of them looking immensely pleased with themselves regardless.

The subject of shapeshifting, it seemed, had been dropped and forgotten for good.

Except ‘for good’ only lasted until the next practice spar. Biggs had taken her usual sword before pacing the makeshift arena, while Snowflake had seemingly entered the fight unarmed. She was standing in a deceptively casual stance, calmly waiting for Biggs to make a move without taking her eyes off her for a single moment. _Something_ was going on there all right, and Bismuth found herself completely distracted from the blocks she’d been measuring out, enthralled by the palpable tension simmering in the air.

As soon as Biggs decided she’d had enough waiting and made a bold step forward, Snowflake moved, too— and fluidly transformed one white-speckled arm into a _sword_ , just in time to meet and block her opponent’s blade.

Beside Bismuth, Crazy Lace scowled, but kept silent, refusing to undermine her partner.

Snowflake didn’t keep her arm confined to the form of a sword, however. As the battle progressed, it changed into half a dozen different weapons, all of them clearly not foreign to Snowflake’s arsenal— a staff, a whip, a glaive, whatever suited the moment. She came out decisively victorious, and left Biggs too impressed to even care about her own defeat.

Afterwards, Snowflake sat with Biggs by the forest’s edge, and lectured for a long, long time. It was too far away to hear, but Bismuth assumed it was something similar to the shapeshifting instruction she herself had once received. Crazy Lace had gone off to sulk, and Bismuth made sure to make her stone-strikes extra loud for her benefit.

 

* * *

When Bismuth had the rough shape of the first cubby almost finished, Crazy Lace did her a favour, and stood in it, just to check the size and depth. Fit like a glove.

She committed the dimensions to memory, and was prepared to duplicate it fifty times over. A few days into the process, though, something stopped her.

The quartzes had established a sparring routine with Snowflake Obsidian and Crazy Lace Agate taking turns as Biggs Jasper’s partner, building up her speed and stamina, drilling her in a variety of weapons and techniques. That day, though, they were trying something different. The two of them sparred against each other while Biggs stayed out of the way, watching. Once the fight was over, she’d need to give detailed notes about what had happened, what had been done right, what could be improved— they were building up her focus, her awareness, and her perception.

The way the two experienced and remarkably different quartzes went at each other was so impressive, Bismuth stopped in her own work to watch. Blade against blade, the strikes so loud they sent flocks of birds up into the trees, Crazy Lace roaring insults and taunts while Snowflake took them all stone-faced…

The dioptases could paint all the frescoes they wanted, but _this_ … this was an artistry of its own.

Biggs sat hunched up in her cubby as her teachers fought, her wide eyes visibly straining to take it all in without missing a single step or swing or feint. The determination on her usually jovial features served as a sharp reminder that, no matter what ridiculous jokes Bismuth had heard her laugh at or what silly Earth creature Bismuth had seen her play with, this was still an elite quartz warrior.

When they were done, Bismuth let them get on with the debrief, not even trying to pretend she wasn’t listening.

 _Crazy Lace should have made better use of her superior reach before they got within grappling distance_ , Bismuth carefully filed the words away as Biggs listed her observations. Just in case. In case of what? Well... she could figure that one out later. _Snowflake was quick and stayed light on her feet, but she let her opponent linger in her blind spots too often to be safe. Both of them took care to use the terrain to their advantage._

Once all that was finished and Biggs Jasper was left to her own devices while her teachers discussed her progress among themselves, Bismuth wandered over to her cubby. “Hey. Let me see how tall you are.”

The grunt of effort Biggs produced while slowly unfolding from her cramped position only served to strengthen Bismuth’s hunch. And sure enough, when she lined Biggs up next to the newly completed cubby, the hulking jasper stood nearly a full head taller. Bismuth shook her head. “Thought so. Your name is well earned.”

Biggs gave a small shrug and blushed, drawing into herself slightly. “I figured the cubbies were just meant to be that small.”

“Normally, they are. They’re built to fit an average quartz, but you came out a little bigger than average. C’mon, stand over here,” Bismuth pointed her towards a clear patch of cliff-face, “put your back against the wall. Keep straight.”

Bismuth got her chalk back out, and made an outline for a bigger cubby, just the proper size for Biggs. Then she drew out four others just like it, just in case the planet spat out any more giants.

“No more slouching or awkward crouching for you. A Gem deserves to be comfy,” she told a still-flustered, bashful, and— she had to admit— highly endearing Biggs. And she meant it. Which was why Biggs’s bespoke cubby flew straight to the top of her priority list. She worked hard to have it finished as quickly as possible, all the sooner for Biggs to move into it.

“ _Wow_ ,” Biggs said once the cubby was done. She stepped inside, snuggling all the way to the back, one hand running along the smooth stone walls. It fit perfectly around her body. “Wow, Bismuth. Thanks. It’s _perfect_.”

Bismuth shrugged. “No problem. It’s my job.”

(It wasn’t _quite_ her job. She wasn’t meant to build cubbies for specific individuals. But nobody had ever told her _not_ to, and it was nice, having some control over what she made, for once. Plus getting to see the recipient so openly and honestly pleased with the result was a new kind of rewarding.)

And Biggs, never one for subtlety, was pleased, that much was rather overwhelmingly obvious. She was grinning ear to ear, practically vibrating with excitement—

— and then she threw herself at Bismuth.

And _hugged_ her.

Bismuth stiffened. And then, gently but firmly, pushed the the quartz away.

“Uhhhh,” the Jasper said. “S-sorry? Did I do something wrong?”

“Yes,” Bismuth said, not unkindly. “It’s alright. Just don’t do that again.”

Biggs Jasper was frowning, looking utterly lost, and Bismuth wasn’t sure where to begin. Thankfully, the Agates were never far away. They’d seen what had happened, and were already rushing over.

“You don’t touch other Gems,” Crazy Lace explained.

“Huh? But we touch all the time,” Biggs said.

“No, other Gem _types_ ,” Crazy Lace clarified, and Bismuth found herself once again feeling intensely grateful for this particular Agate’s unusually forgiving nature. “Quartzes can touch quartzes, but that’s it.”

“What about when you’re fighting?”

“Fighting’s different,” said Lace.

Bismuth stepped back, turning away. Best to go back to actually focusing on her work and let the quartzes handle their own business.

“But why not?” she still heard Biggs Jasper ask. “Why shouldn’t we touch?”

There were about as many different explanations to offer for that as there were types of Gems in the Empire. Some were more believable than others. A few, Bismuth had been able to tell in time, were little more than weak excuses. A lot of talk about purity, about respect. About knowing your place and not defiling yourself or your station. About the menacing risk of fusion. Wouldn't want to end up like that freak sapphire-ruby that had gotten Blue's court so riled up, after all.

Snowflake Obsidian didn’t explain it with any of those, however. She simply said, “It’s just not done.”

There was silence for a long, taut moment. Then, out of the corner of her eye, Bismuth saw Biggs Jasper turn and stalk into her brand new cubby, stubbornly facing the back wall and curling up inside it as if it were still her old cramped one. When Crazy Lace put a hand on her shoulder in an attempt to bodily pull her back out, Biggs jerked away and snapped, “ _Don’t touch me!_ ”

The slight tension grew into a heavy, almost tangible wall between them. Bismuth briefly abandoned her increasingly weak pretense of focusing on her work, and shared a look with the Agates. Snowflake had her hands on her hips. Crazy Lace was biting her lip. All Bismuth could do was shrug and hope this would pass sooner rather than later.

Newmade had to learn sometime.

 

* * *

Biggs stayed in her hole for three days straight.

She refused to talk, no matter what the Agates did to coax her out. They had tried ordering her, yelling at her, even pleading with her, but nothing seemed to work.

Bismuth had seen Gems of lesser cuts shattered for far slighter disobediences. But not once did these Agates, for all their strength and might and rightful authority, threaten their charge with violence.

There was no telling how long Biggs would have persisted in her sulking, had she been allowed to. But two suns later, an order came that even she couldn’t refuse, and it came in the form of a pearl.

Not Iolite’s pearl, all but drowning in endless layers of purple ruffles. Bismuth had never seen this one before, but even her _uncouth commoner_ self could recognize quality when she saw it— shimmering sheer pink skirts, short wispy hair, long gauzy sleeves...

The pearl’s gem sat in her navel. It wasn’t hard to guess who she belonged to.

The pearl didn’t even look at Bismuth when she warped in. She went directly to the Agates and addressed them in a whisper as subtle as winds through the trees, too quiet for Bismuth to hear. Snowflake stalked up to Biggs’s cubby, and whatever she said to her was enough to get the newmade up and moving within moments. The three Quartzes marched to the warp pad, the pearl trailing behind them like a spectre. They straightened out their uniforms and squared their shoulders, stood tall and strong and respectable, and then vanished in a beam of light.

Bismuth had helped build Pink Diamond’s palace. She hoped they’d like it.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

The Quartzes were grim when they returned.

“What’s wrong?” It wasn’t her place, but Bismuth could not help but ask. It was certainly a relief to have them all back, but the way Biggs’s feet dragged, and the way Snowflake gazed resolutely ahead and _through_ Bismuth was disconcerting, to say the least.

“Nothing is wrong!” Crazy Lace said. She was smiling, but it seemed too tight for her face. “Biggs Jasper has been granted a high honor. The _highest honor_!”

Bismuth’s eyebrows shot straight up. She looked at Biggs. “You’re going to be in Pink Diamond’s personal guard?”

Biggs ducked her head. “Yeah.”

Bismuth’s mouth hung open. She had never seen a Diamond in person, of course, but she had built life-sized statues; and any Gem worth their cut would have heard the hymns and songs of praise, the tales and stories of the Diamonds’ brilliance. The ones about Pink Diamond especially exalted her vibrancy, her loveliness, her radiance— and her guard detail that was made up of only the finest, most loyal quartzes (barring one notorious exception). Even just the _chance_ to become part of the guard was a glorious privilege that many a proud quartz would risk getting shattered for. An unproven, untested newmade like Biggs could only fantasize of such an opportunity. _Of course_ this was great news!

Then how come nobody was acting like it?

“Biggs will be in the guard,” Snowflake Obsidian said, “if Biggs can prove herself in trial.”

Ah.

Of course. Well, that answered that.

“But what if I don’t want to be in the guard?” Biggs demanded. “I want to go to space, like the others! I want to fight on the front lines, I want to serve our Empire—”

“You can serve our Empire at Pink Diamond’s side!” cried Crazy Lace, loud and laden with more of the obviously forced enthusiasm.

“But I don’t want—”

“Doesn’t matter what you want,” Snowflake Obsidian cut her off, voice sterner than anything Bismuth had heard from her before. “Pink Diamond wishes you to be her guard. You will fight every quartz on this planet, and you will defeat all of them, and you will do as you are ordered.”

There was a dark silence, where Bismuth thought the question all of them had, but none of them dared to say aloud:

_What if Biggs didn’t win?_

“Come on,” Crazy Lace said, at last. “You need to train.”

 

* * *

The Quartzes had always carried an easy, relaxed air about them. With Biggs as their sole charge, the Agates had long done away with formalities in their training. In the short time she’d known these Gems, Bismuth had witnessed a lot of casual touches and friendly banter among them; and even in the thick of a mock battle, they still found time to exchange smiles.

That all vanished overnight.

There was hardly any time left until the trials, and all of it was dedicated to Biggs’s training. Endless drills with weapons of every sort imaginable— staves and spears, swords and knives, hammers and maces, and many others Bismuth didn’t even have names for, having only ever caught glimpses of them in forges. They had Biggs climbing up and down the cliff face, constantly urging her to go faster, _faster_. She practiced her spin dash too, rolling up and down the slopes until she became consumed in hot brown flames.

They practiced all throughout the day and night, in all manner of weathers. Often, they would warp away to train on different terrain— mountains, beaches, tundras, floating platforms, proper arenas. Nobody knew what might be necessary, what could be a winning skill or give an unexpected advantage, so they did their best to cover _all_ of them.

Bismuth, in turn, did her best to stay out of their way and just let them get on with it. It wasn’t like she could help them anyway, even if she tried.

But she still worried for them.

Snowflake was talking even less than usual. Crazy Lace’s genuine smile had been replaced with one taut and uncertain. And Biggs… She spent what little free time left to her curled up in her cubby, head between her knees.

Bismuth caught herself wishing she could forget about the lesson they’d struggled to impart not so long ago, and just give the Jasper a hug.

 

* * *

After finishing her twenty-fifth cubby, Bismuth summoned the courage to pull Crazy Lace aside and ask, “How bad is it?”

Crazy Lace ran her hand down her face. “It’ll be… hard,” she confessed, voice low so that Biggs wouldn’t overhear. “Even the most talented of newmades would have trouble facing off against so many experienced quartzes.”

“So, not good.”

Another of those forced, fake smiles. “Long term, it’ll be better for her. Safer. A Diamond’s personal guard never sees active combat.”

Snowflake, who’d been passing by, paused to add, “ _Almost_ never.”

“You mean those rebels,” Bismuth said.

“Among others,” Snowflake said.

Bismuth raised her eyebrows, so the two Agates explained: There was a reason why Pink Diamond had started looking for a new addition to her personal guard _now_.

A few days ago, she’d gone for a stroll through her territory, to appreciate the sights of her colony, when she’d been attacked by a band of wild humans. They’d been weak and slow, of course; even if they’d gotten anywhere near Pink Diamond herself, they couldn’t have been able to hurt her. But there’d been enough of them, coming so unexpectedly, that’d they’d managed to chip one of Pink Diamond’s amethysts.

Bismuth winced. She didn’t bother asking if the amethyst was okay. Nobody whose gem got damaged was ever ‘okay’.

“She was Harvested.” Crazy Lace leaned in, speaking nearly in whisper. “Not the worst way to go, serving her Diamond.”

“ _Her Diamond_ didn’t even _care_ ,” Snowflake hissed. “More concerned about the little humans she’d collected, or the ‘wonderful’ new Jasper she would get in her guard detail. Not at all about the amethyst she’d just lost. No, all _she_ cares about are her new... _trinkets_.” She spat out the last bit as if the very word rolling on her tongue disgusted her. Bismuth had never heard Snowflake express herself this strongly before. “The Diamonds don’t care about us. Never did.”

Then she stalked off, leaving Bismuth and Crazy Lace unsure of how to respond to the clear blasphemy in her words.

And it was blasphemy of the worst kind, to speak ill of the Diamonds. The type of offense that Bismuth should immediately report to her supervisor, on principle. ‘For every Gem, her duty; for every duty, its Gem— all in the infinite wisdom of her Diamond,’ or so the maxim went, well-drilled into everyone as soon as they’d popped out of the ground.

Nothing should be able to shake her loyalty to her Creator.

And yet Bismuth felt absolutely no desire to report the infraction.

In fact, she couldn’t help but feel that if what Snowflake said was true, then... then...

Bismuth shook her head, not daring to think any further.

“I’ll… go after her later,” Crazy Lace said at last, but her voice was hushed. “After she’s cooled down a bit.”

 

* * *

Bismuth wasn’t certain if Snowfl— if the Obsidian ever did cool down after that exchange, but the temperature certainly managed to.

It was one of the planet’s quirks, to exhibit extreme variations in weather and climate— a consequence of its orbit and axis tilt. It wasn’t really something Bismuth noticed much; all Gems were fairly resilient to a wide range of conditions, and bismuths more than most.

As it was, she was so hard at work that she didn’t realize the weather had changed until Biggs stopped in the middle of a climbing drill to cry, “What’s this?!”

Bismuth paused to look around. At first, she didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. Then she saw the little white specks floating down from the sky.

“That’s snow!” Bismuth cried up to her.

Biggs was so distracted that she gave up on her climbing exercise right then and there, dropping back to the ground. Bismuth noticed Obsidian preparing to scold her, but Crazy Lace held her back.

This was the happiest they’d seen Biggs in quite some time.

Bismuth had known Biggs Jasper was a newmade, but she hadn’t appreciated just how young she was. This was her first winter ever, and she exclaimed again and again that she hadn’t even known it was possible for water _to_ freeze.

“‘Course it can,” Bismuth said. “Stars, ice is a _mineral_. We can make Gems from it.”

“No _way_.”

“Yes way,” said Crazy Lace. “They’re never assigned to colonies this warm, but they’re out there, I swear.”

“Real fine Gems,” added Obsidian.

The snow was coming down thick by then, coating the whole ground in fine silvery dust. Biggs stood with her head back, trying to catch snowflakes on her tongue, giggling as the larger ones began to block her eyes. Finally she shook them off, making everyone yelp as the snow hit them.

“Sorry!” Biggs giggled, not sounding apologetic at all. She held out a hand and caught some of the snow as it drifted down. She smiled at it, then at Obsidian. “I see where your name comes from now. It fits perfectly!”

Snowflake Obsidian stiffened, and everyone’s smiles faded.

“Uh… did I say something wrong?” Biggs asked, worriedly shifting her honestly baffled gaze from face to face.

Obsidian didn’t say anything. Bismuth couldn’t blame her, so she answered instead. “Ah, Biggs, it’s just… you just don’t talk about that kind of stuff.” Biggs’s brow furrowed in confusion, so Bismuth motioned her closer, explaining in a low tone. “It’s just, ah... Most obsidians, they’re pure black, right? The white bits… they’re like, not really meant to be there. So it’s just not something to talk about, really.”

“I-I’m sorry!” Biggs spun around to face the Obsidian again, and this time, the apology sounded genuine. “I didn’t mean— nothin’ like that! I just meant— snowflakes are really pretty—”

Obsidian held up one hand to stop her talking, though the other remained clenched at her side. She said, “I understand.”

Biggs sagged with relief.

“But I will still have to punish you.”

Bismuth recoiled as the Obsidian attacked in a flash—

—and a snowball hit Biggs firmly in the chest.

There was a stunned silence.

Then Crazy Lace yelled out, “SNOWBALL FIGHT!”

Suddenly everything became a blur, snow flying everywhere. There was no escape, not even for Bismuth as she, too, was yanked into the fray. She did pretty good, actually. With her shapeshifting, she could make her hands huge and throw heaps of the icy stuff at her enemies, completely submerging them. But Obsidian hit hard, Crazy Lace was quick on her feet, and even Biggs had killer aim.

“KEEP MOVING!” Crazy Lace shouted at her, as Biggs got yet another snowball to the back of her head. Bismuth grunted and picked up speed.

They had started out as every Gem for herself, but somehow, amongst the chaos, unofficial alliances began to form, with Biggs and Bismuth facing off against Crazy Lace and Snowflake.

Bismuth rushed to construct a fort as Biggs covered for her. Soon they were lobbing a relentless attack over the snowy walls, cackling as their enemies scrambled to regroup. But then Crazy Lace came back, charging at them and using her superior speed to hit from all directions. Neither of them even noticed Snowflake until the precarious walls of their fort came tumbling down.

And so, the ill-fated snow fort had to be abandoned.

Bismuth and her faithful ally bolted, hands covering their heads, as a veritable hail of snowballs fell upon them.

“Keep your eyes on both of them at the same time!” screamed Biggs. It wasn’t an easy thing to do while running away, but Bismuth did her best.

The two of them somehow managed to get to the top of the cliffs, and used the high ground to rain their own revenge from above.

They lost track of time, all of them. Frontlines shifted, fortunes changed, combatants grouped and regrouped and kept going back and forth until, finally, they just collapsed to the ground in an exhausted circle. The battle had ended without a clear winner, but that didn’t really matter.

They lay there in comfortable silence, their backs in the soft snow, as they watched the sky turn from grey, to red, to black.

 

* * *

The next day, it was back to business as usual.

 

* * *

A bismuth’s duty often sent her to far-off places— to desolate, uninhabited regions, untouched by Gemkind— where she would work, alone save for others of her type, until their task was complete and the mark of their Empire was indelibly made. And then the proper Gems would move into their towers and spires and temples, while the bismuths would move on, each to her next assignment. Maybe some of their paths would cross again, on some other colony-to-be, but mostly there simply wasn’t time— or real reason— to keep track.

Bismuth was accustomed to it. It was how things worked. It was how they had _always_ worked.

Then _why_ was it _bothering_ her?

The Quarters were empty, save for Bismuth. Biggs, Crazy Lace, and Snowflake were gone. Training. They were in some dangerous, lava-spewing volcano, supposedly great for footwork drills. They had said they would be out there all night.

Tomorrow, when the sun reached the highest point in the sky, the picture Jasper would be officially presented to Pink Diamond. And it would be such a _grand_ event— a tournament pitting her against nearly every other warrior on the planet. To demonstrate her strength and skill. To prove her worth before she pledged herself, her whole being, to the protection of her Diamond.

Bismuth wished she could be there, if just to show Biggs her support...

But she couldn’t.

Those events were reserved for _elites_ , not lowly builders and maintenance workers. The best thing Bismuth could do to help out Biggs was to let her get along with her training. Besides, she had to finish the quarters anyway, before the next batch of quartzes from the Earth Kindergarten came along.

The batch of quartzes that would contain Biggs’s replacement, should she lose...

No. No point in thinking about that.

Still, the silence they’d left behind was strange. Empty. The night was eerily peaceful, but dark. Even the stars and the moon were blocked by clouds, robbing her surroundings of the most meager light that would have trickled in. It made the canyon feel too big for her alone.

—too lonely.

 _Best to get used to it_ , Bismuth told herself. _Should never have gotten used to anything else._

She shook her head and tried to focus on doing her work. She activated her gem, rainbow light spilling from her chest to help her see. Then she shifted her arm into a pickaxe and made it swing down against the canyon wall, pull back, and repeat.

Swing, pull. Swing, pull. Again and again and again, endlessly digging away at the rock. Swing, pull…

_Crash._

Swing, pull.

_Thud._

Swing, pull.

**_Bang!_ **

Bismuth stopped just as she was winding up for another strike, arm held tensely above her head. She listened. The noises were coming from the other end of the canyon, around the bend where the warp pad lay. They had been hard to hear above the sounds of her work, but now it became clear how very loud they actually were.

 _They’re back_ , was her first thought, and the quick flush of joy erased any determination she’d built up about getting used to them being away. She opened her mouth to yell out a greeting, but then stopped. Quartzes could certainly be loud— and her quartzes were no exception— but whatever was making this noise sounded way too deliberate. Like stone crashing against stone. Like smashing. Like _destruction_.

Suspicion sneaked up on her.

Bismuth snuffed out her light. She climbed carefully down the ledges of cubbies she had built, and landed gently on the dusty ground. Bismuths were big and couldn’t really help being loud enough to match, but as she crept her way towards the noise, she endeavored to make herself as quiet and small as she could.

She peeked around the corner. And she saw them— _the rebels_.

They were instantly recognizable— By the towering, flowing form of _the_ rogue Rose Quartz. By the slim, wispy figure of the pearl she had stolen. And by the odd, gangly silhouette that could only belong to the hybrid fusion.  

But most of all, by the fact that they were doing their best to _completely destroy the quarters!_

The fusion was punching the walls and the statues. Rose Quartz was repeatedly picking up boulders and throwing them. Even the pearl, who couldn’t ever hope to match their strength, contributed in defacing the place by steadily carving words into the wall with a long, dull knife.

_Do they know how much time I spent repairing all that?!_

Bismuth tried to consider her options, even through her growing outrage.

She could retreat, find a nice quiet corner to hide in, and wait for her quartzes to come. Fix the damage all over again later, when it was safe.

She could make a dash for the warp pad, and go find help.

The option she went with, however, was to scream out a wordless battle-cry and rush into combat herself.

She went swinging at Rose Quartz first; she was the biggest threat after all— or she should have been. But she seemed more surprised than anything, as Bismuth bore down on her. She didn’t even raise her fists in defense.

“Oh,” she said, as Bismuth drove the spike of her pickaxe-hand into Rose Quartz’s shoulder.

Or... tried to. She missed by a hair’s breadth, thanks to Rose Quartz jumping back with an easy lightness Bismuth had never seen in a quartz before.

“A bismuth?” the pearl cried from behind.

Bismuth ignored her. All her focus was on Rose Quartz, now on the offense, her surprise quickly fading. She balled her fists and swung at Bismuth with a quick volley of punches. Bismuth winced as one hit in the shoulder, but managed to stumble back and out of the range of the others just in time.

She wasn’t a fighter. She knew that. But she’d been watching the quartzes train for months now, and she found herself drawing on every piece of advice she’d overheard from them.

 _Watch their body_ , Snowflake’s voice told her. Bismuth shifted her gaze from Rose Quartz’s fists to her arms, her chest, her waist, observing how the muscles moved, trying to predict where the blows would come.

 _Keep moving_ , Crazy Lace’s voice told her. So Bismuth stayed on the balls of her feet, running in zigzags, jumping up high to avoid sweeping kicks.

 _You gotta keep watching both of them at the same time_ , Biggs’s voice told her. Just in time to remind her of the fusion. She barely managed to avoid a strike from behind.

She wondered how the fusion could be so _coherent_. A ruby and a sapphire, mashed together, that’s what the rumors had said. It defied sense. A being like that shouldn’t have even been able to walk. Yet the fusion moved with a sapphire’s speed and hit with a ruby’s ferocity, and it was dizzying, trying to take on both her and Rose Quartz at once.

But she _was_ doing it! She was! She was holding her own, and fighting back, and all she had to do was get a decent blow in—

Something sharp jabbed her in the back.

“Don’t. You. _Move_.”

Never before had Bismuth heard a pearl sound so _terrifying_.

She obeyed.

Maybe it would have been better to try to fight back, to at least make an attempt to resist, than to simply accept defeat and the shattering that was sure to come. But at her slightest twitch, the pearl would thrust the blade forward and that would be that. Maybe Bismuth would be able to move fast enough to dodge it, but she could already feel the blade sinking deeper into her flesh. And out of the corner of her eye, she could see the worn knife the pearl had been using in her vandalism efforts, now cast away on the floor. Which meant she was up against an actual weapon, probably much longer—

“Wait,” the fusion said, from somewhere off to Bismuth’s side.

The pearl did as she was told.

“What is it, Garnet?” Rose Quartz asked.

There was a pause as the fusion stepped into view, gave her an appraising look with all three strangely mismatched eyes. “This Bismuth is important.”

Rose Quartz’s expression softened, though she did not lower her guard. “Well, of course,” she said. “Everyone’s important.”

“That’s not what I meant—”

“Yes, I know,” Rose Quartz sighed.

Bismuth sure didn’t.

Rose Quartz was looking at her with the oddest of smiles as she took a step closer.

“Rose,” the pearl warned, from behind Bismuth’s back. “You should stay back.”

“I don’t think she’ll hurt me.”

“Don’t be so sure,” Bismuth growled.

Rose Quartz laughed. That just made Bismuth’s scowl deepen. She didn’t appreciate being patronized.

“Do you know who we are?” Rose Quartz asked.

“Sure. You’re the rebels.”

Rose Quartz and the pearl spoke in what sounded like suspiciously well-practiced unison: “ _We_ are the _CRYSTAL GEMS!_ ”

“That’s our group name,” the fusion (a garnet?) added, unnecessarily.

“Well. Great,” Bismuth said, unimpressed. “Call yourselves whatever you like. I’ll call you the-annoying-Gems-who-keep-breaking-things-I-need-to-fix.”

“Catchy,” said the garnet.

Behind Bismuth, the pearl snickered. The long, spindly fingers grabbing onto Bismuth’s shoulder tightened their grip, and the blade crept in another micron.

Rose Quartz smiled, but did not laugh. Her expression was hard to read in the dim light. “Do you know why we do what we do?”

If she had not had a blade pressed to her back, Bismuth would have shrugged. As it was, her best bet of getting through this alive was to keep her captors talking for as long as possible. “No. Tell me.”

They told her.

And it was all complete _shale_.

They told her about freedom. About being able to do whatever you _wanted_ to do, without any regards to castes or orders or hierarchies or what roles needed to be fulfilled.

They told her about protection. About how it wasn’t right, for Gems to just be whipped or harvested or shattered whenever they misbehaved or were damaged.

They told her about loyalty. About pledging yourself to someone, not because you were made for them, but because you respected them and liked them for who they were— who they _chose_ to be— and wanted to be with them.

It was… ridiculous. Preposterous. Things didn’t work that way. Things _couldn’t_ work that way. Every Gem had a role to play, from the lowliest pearl to the greatest Diamond. Every Gem knew who they had to listen to, and who had to listen to them. Without that, society would break down. Nobody would know what to do, or _when_ to do it. It would all be complete…

_Chaos._

Then why was it so _compelling_?

There had to be a trick here. Something she was missing. These Gems were outlaws. They ran around, attacking courts, destroying property, spitting on the Empire’s name. She couldn’t let herself be taken in, couldn’t let her thoughts stray, not to her quartzes, not to anything but the situation at hand— the dangerous, sweet-talking, notorious rebel leader before her, and the threat of the stolen pearl’s likely equally stolen blade behind her.

Bismuth narrowed her eyes at the fusion. Half-ruby, half-sapphire. “What did you mean before? About me being ‘important’?”

It was probably just another trick. Some way to lure her in.

But sapphires… sapphires could see the future, or so it was said. If this part-sapphire could, too... If she were being honest...

Well, then it would be stupid not to at least hear her out.

“Exactly what I said.” The garnet’s three eyes looked her over again, from head to toe, and Bismuth felt a shiver run down her spine. “You’re going to do great things. That is certain.” She paused. “It’ll be easier to do them with us.”

‘Great things’? Well, that was pretty fracking vague.

“Ugh, this is a waste of time!” the pearl snapped. The sharpness in her tone nearly made Bismuth flinch, an unwelcome reminder of the sharpness of the blade she could feel still pressed against her. “We’re clearly not convincing this one of anything. Every minute we stay here, we become bigger targets. Let’s get going.”

“We still have time,” Rose Quartz said.

“It’s tight,” the fusion said.

Rose Quartz kept her gaze locked with Bismuth’s. For a moment, the moon slipped out from behind the clouds, and her black eyes reflected silver in the light— bright and deep and impossibly mesmerizing.

Then Bismuth blinked.

“Very well,” Rose Quartz sighed, stepping away, spell broken.

The other rebels followed her lead and began to retreat. Not to the warp pad, but the forest’s edge. The pearl came around to Bismuth’s front, still pointing the sword at her chest, eyes daring her to try something. No matter the wielder, the blade was way too close to her gem for Bismuth to even consider it.

Rose Quartz and the Garnet had their back turned towards Bismuth. Only the pearl was bothering to keep watch on their captive.

Somehow, Bismuth couldn’t find it in herself to be offended by that.

She watched them go in silence, but her mind was anything but quiet.

Why did chaos sound so… appealing? Bismuth loved order. She did. Really! Every Gem had to— _did_. You could bet on order. Build an empire on it.

Well, what you really did was build an empire on the back of _bismuths_. They did all the work, and the only reward they got was more of it.

But that was what bismuths were _made for_. Bismuths built. Better Gems told them what to build, and where and when. And then bismuths carefully ‘interpreted’ those instructions so that the Arena would be balanced, and the Sea Spire didn’t lean, and the monument to Pink Diamond’s emergence wasn’t on a major fault line, because those ‘better gems’ knew frack all about actually building things.  

Or— and now that the thought was in her mind, it would never go, it may as well have been chiseled there— much of anything else.

Freedom. Protection. Loyalty. Those were the big rules these ‘Crystal Gems’ apparently fought for. What could you build on that?

Something new. Something _different_. Not just row after identical row, column after uniform column...

—A cubby that fit the Gem who used it.

It would be betrayal— to her diamond, to her kind, to her quartzes. What would _they_ think? Her quartzes. What would Biggs and Crazy Lace and Snowflake _think_ , if they knew she had thought about just... walking away?

But they weren’t _‘her’_ quartzes, were they? Of course they weren’t. They were the Empire’s. If all went well tomorrow, Biggs would be serving in Pink Diamond’s personal guard. In a while, a new vein of quartzes would emerge, and Snowflake and Crazy Lace would be busy with them. And Bismuth would finish their cubbies, get given a new assignment, and probably never see any of them again.

What was the point of staying, then?

“Wait!” she called.

The rebels slowed. Rose Quartz turned and looked back at her, oddly unperturbed, and Bismuth felt a slight sting in her pride at the idea of being considered predictable.

“Can you prove to me that anything you say is true?”

“Yes,” said Rose Quartz.

It could be a lie. And if it was… well, no loss. These Gems seemed too trusting, by far, and the pearl, the sole exception, would hardly be a problem. If she wasn’t impressed, Bismuth could just slip away.

“Alright.” Bismuth’s fists clenched as she mustered up the will to take a step forward. “I’ll come with you. But you better be able to back up your claims.”

Rose Quartz didn’t say anything. She simply smiled.

 

* * *

The quarters were silent and empty when the Quartzes warped back in.

This didn’t seem immediately strange. Bismuth could have been just around the corner, working at the other end of the cliff. Or she could have gone to report to her supervisor, or pick up more materials, or a dozen different, perfectly routine things.

But as the Quartzes’ eyes adjusted to the light, they took in the damage. The rubble lying at their feet. The giant gouges and fist-marks in the limestone walls. The upended statue of Blue Diamond. The word ‘FREEDOM’ carved above the nearest cubby in large, neat letters.

“What—” Biggs began, but Crazy Lace Agate clapped a hand over her mouth. Raised a finger to her lips. _Quiet_.

The enemy could still be nearby.

Snowflake Obsidian crouched low, inspecting the ground with expert eyes. The recently melted snow had left the ground moist and muddy. Footprints covered it all over, so thickly and so heavily that it seemed nothing more than a chaotic jumble, at first. As Snowflake scrutinized it, however, sense started to emerge. The most recognizable footprints were Bismuth’s, large and firm. There was one set of feet even broader, but much lighter— some sort of quartz. Another, so tiny and thin that they could only belong to a pearl. The fourth, she didn’t recognize at all. The left foot showed toes, but the right one did not, as if the Gem wore only one boot. Otherwise, the proportions matched no Gem she knew.

In the area near the center, the mud was so disturbed that nothing could be made out at all.

“There was a fight?” Biggs whispered.

Crazy Lace nodded.

But then, out of the mess, all four trails of footprints lead away, down the slope towards the forest. The quartzes followed the tracks until they disappeared into the bushes, replaced by the tell-tale signs of broken branches and disturbed leaves.

Biggs’s eyes were wide. “Bismuth… went with them?”

“Captured,” Crazy Lace hissed.

Snowflake nodded.

“We gotta go after her!” Biggs cried.

Crazy Lace opened her mouth to say something, then stopped and exchanged a look with Snowflake. The both of them had been given the same set of instructions. They knew proper protocol— the right thing to do would be to report this. Their superiors needed to be informed of any signs of rebel activity immediately, no matter how slight. That way, they could prepare a suitable taskforce to go after them while the trail was fresh.

But... there would be no taskforce. Nobody would ever agree to it. Not with Pink Diamond’s Grand Quartz Tournament the next day. Not even on the day after, or the week, or month.

Not for a single bismuth.

Crazy Lace reckoned they might assemble a squad of rubies. Snowflake doubted they’d get even that much.

And every moment they waited, the rebels and their captive got further away.

“We’re going,” Crazy Lace said, pushing her way into the brush. Snowflake followed. So did Biggs.

“Not you,” ordered Snowflake, and moved to bar Biggs’s way even as the Jasper towered over her.

“Why not?”

“Your trial is tomorrow,” Snowflake said.

“Snowflake’s right,” Crazy Lace said, before Biggs could argue. “We can handle this. Stay here, Biggs.”

“You can’t stop me,” Biggs snarled, and she pushed past both of them, into the undergrowth.

They could stop her, actually, and without much trouble. Biggs had left her back open, undefended. It wouldn’t be hard to take her down. All things considered, it would be better for her and for her potentially radiant future.

But neither of them attacked.

“Fine,” Crazy Lace called after her. “But stay behind us!”

Biggs stopped a little ways away and allowed them to catch up.

The three of them set off on a rescue mission.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy International Workers' Day, to all the bismuths of the world.


	3. Chapter 3

The forest was darker than Bismuth had expected. The seemingly haphazard entanglement of foliage overhead allowed for only the slightest slivers of moonlight, creating a ceiling for which she felt the stirrings of respect.

For all the time she’d spent at the forest’s edges, Bismuth had never actually ventured amongst the trees. There hadn’t ever been any need for her to. She hadn’t been part of the earliest stages of this planet’s colonization and development. Not like on Planet Diadema 8 of the Silicate System, for instance, where Bismuth had helped cut down the great grass growths by the ammonia coasts to make way for a very ambitious array of spires. By the time she’d been assigned to Crystal System Colony Planet Earth, all the initial construction sites had already been cleared and flattened and prepared. Her job had been to build, and nothing else.

Bismuth’s eyes strained in the darkness. The Crystal Gems didn’t seem to have a problem navigating the rough terrain, even without much use of sight. They made their way easily over the irregular ground, the loose stones, and the occasional root. The effortless glide Rose Quartz was demonstrating especially made Bismuth feel horribly clumsy in comparison. It was almost like she was floating, or like the forest was actively doing its best not to hinder her in any way. Bismuth, on the other hand, kept tripping over gnarly roots that seemed to want to grab at her ankles, or hitting her head on low-hanging branches, often worryingly loudly.

Nobody said anything, not to her, not to each other. Although, once or twice, as she winced at the feeling of shifting loose earth and pebbles endangering her already precarious balance, she swore she caught the pearl _smirking_ at her.

Eventually, the fusion— _Garnet—_ held out a hand. The gem in her palm glowed red, lighting the path in front of them.

“Wait, aren’t you afraid someone will see that?” Bismuth asked, voice kept carefully low.

Garnet shrugged as she stepped over a small log, then kept her hand pointed towards it so Bismuth could follow suit. “Homeworld never comes this far out.”

Bismuth wasn’t entirely convinced by that, but she was grateful for the light, so she said nothing.

For a while after that, the heavy silence hung over them, broken by nothing but the rustling of leaves and a collection of odd, subtle noises Bismuth couldn’t hope to place more precisely than ‘Earth’. The Crystal Gems seemed intent on putting as much distance behind them as possible. Bismuth, now less worried about taking an embarrassing and potentially painful tumble, was focused on trying to remember which way she’d come from, just in case she _did_ decide to turn back. It didn’t take her very long to realize how difficult that would be without guidance. This wasn’t like the nicely labeled, regimented corridors she was used to. Every tree looked practically identical, and every turn they took felt like going around in circles.

Finally, their pace seemed to slow; and Bismuth figured it was okay to risk asking another question: “You’re taking me to your base, then?”

“Not quite yet,” said Rose Quartz, still leading the way, still perfectly unruffled to a somewhat annoying degree. “There’s something else I think you should see first.”

Okay, so maybe the rebels _weren’t_ stupid enough to bring a completely untested and unproven new ‘ally’ directly to their hideout after all. And the mysterious promise of _something else_ did pique her curiosity.

“This it?” Bismuth asked when they stopped at a small river a short while later. It was... nice, she supposed. The water made a tinkly rushing noise, and the planet’s moon looked quite lovely reflected on its surface. She couldn’t say it was particularly breathtaking, though. Didn’t do anything to help her buy into any of the rebels’ beliefs and claims, either.

“No. We’re just stopping to clean up a bit,” said Rose Quartz. Without further ado, she wandered into the shallow water, Garnet at her heels. The two of them began to splash around, washing the mud and grit off of themselves.

Bismuth watched for a moment, then shrugged and decided to join them. Cleanliness wasn’t really something she’d ever had any reason to care about-- bismuths were brought in to enhance the scenery by building and shaping it, not by _being_ it, after all-- but she figured she might as well try it since the chance was presenting itself so handily.

The pearl stayed by the shore, alone and almost comically vigilant, hand on her sword hilt, scanning the tree line. Bismuth left her to it.

The water was cold when she stepped into it, much more wary than Rose Quartz had been. Not as cold as snow, but close to it. The sudden change in temperature was a shock, but a pleasant one, weirdly enough.

Rose Quartz caught sight of Bismuth wading in and offered up a small, inscrutable smile. “Come join us, Pearl!” she called, just as Bismuth felt the icy water reach her waist.

The pearl clearly heard the order, and without even a moment’s hesitation _shook her head_.

“You’ll _like_ it,” Garnet said, tone wheedling.

The pearl put one hand on her hip and arched a brow. “Is that a prediction?”

“Just a hope,” said Garnet.

“Well, I _hope_ that we don’t get captured,” the pearl shot back tartly. “So if you’re done with your little swim…?”

Garnet grinned, and stepped easily onto land.

“Oh, very well,” Rose Quartz sighed. She daintily gathered her skirts and swept up behind Bismuth.

(The rebels, Bismuth noted, always took care to ensure that she wasn’t left at the back of the pack and unattended. They had some hint of sense then, at least.)

Before they carried on, however, Rose Quartz paused once more, right beside a bush. From it, she plucked a single flower and tucked it into the pearl’s hair as she passed.

“Rose…” the pearl said, with a look Bismuth couldn’t quite parse. In the pale moonlight, it was just possible to see her face turn blue.

Bismuth watched the exchange, curious. Was that a… gift? That didn’t seem right. True, Bismuth didn’t know much about pearls, but surely they didn’t get... _given_ things. Not to keep for themselves. To hold, yes, of course-- but surely if Rose Quartz wanted to bring that flower with them for whatever reason and didn’t feel like carrying it herself there were simpler ways to go about it than tucking it into the pearl’s wispy hair where it was in danger of falling off any second.

But then, maybe it was more like decoration? Pearls were meant to be pretty, and flowers were themselves quite lovely, and the shade of this one seemed to contrast the pearl’s hair color nicely.

Bismuth’s theory barely lasted thirty seconds before Garnet picked up a fistful of messy petals and leaves off the ground and started to _pelt_ the pearl with them. Although ‘pelt’ might have been too strong a word, considering most of them simply drifted to the ground before they even touched their target. Nonetheless, this was _not_ a tender exchange of adornment. This was something else entirely. Almost like...

Almost like a _game._

“You two are ridiculous!” the pearl cried, the wide smile on her face belying her affronted tone. She strutted behind Bismuth, using her as something of a Gem-shield against further attacks. When the group finally set off again, Bismuth could hear her muttering and picking the detritus out of her hair.

“I thought they were nice,” said Garnet.

“Oh you know what would be nice?” The pearl raised an eyebrow and put a hand on her hips. “Get me some vines and make me a proper belt to carry my swords with.”

“I could stab you,” said Rose Quartz, voice startlingly light and airy, considering the actual content of her words. “Then you can make one yourself to go with your new body.”

“Ha! I would like to see you _try_.”

And then all the Crystal Gems laughed.

Bismuth watched and listened to the whole exchange in bewilderment.

She’d heard all sorts of speculation about the rebels-- it was impossible not to, if one was stationed on Earth, what with the persistent nuisances they’d made of themselves. Fearmongering and dramatics, most of it, especially the rumors about the pearl. The one Bismuth had always subscribed to was that the pearl had been stolen-- taken by _The_ Rose Quartz from right under her proper owner’s nose. And then the pearl, poor thing, had been so lost and scared that she’d latched onto Rose Quartz as her sole source of leadership, no matter how misguided it was.

Now, one surprise near-stabbing courtesy of said pearl later, she was seriously rethinking all of that.

Nothing about this pearl seemed particularly scared or lost or obedient. No, the rebel pearl seemed to have earned her title. Bismuth recalled the things the Crystal Gems had told her about their view of loyalty— pledging yourself to someone not because you were made for them, but because you respected them, and liked them, for who they were— and figured that whoever this pearl’s owner was now, she’d chosen them herself.

Which just left one question.

Bismuth half-turned so she could see the pearl, and slowed her steps somewhat to give her a chance to catch up.

“Hey,” she said, bending down so she was closer to the pearl’s height, voice so soft it was practically a whisper. “Who do you belong to?”

The pearl reared back as if she’d been struck.

_“Nobody!”_

Head held high and nose even higher, she swept past Bismuth and over to Rose Quartz. The Quartz’s attention was entirely on the pearl, expression sympathetic as the pair exchanged words too quiet for Bismuth to hear.

“I didn’t—” Bismuth began, then cut herself off. She hadn’t meant to offend. Stars, she’d been trying to _avoid_ offence! Every pearl had an owner, just like how every single Gem had a supervisor or commander or manager, all the way to the Diamonds. It was a perfectly normal question!

But... these Gems seemed pretty determined to be anything but normal.

Garnet shrugged at her as she took the place behind Bismuth, and they continued on in relative silence.

The ground began to rise, and the group began climbing up a slope. A slight one, at first, but growing gradually steeper. Bismuth was embarrassed to discover that she was getting tired. Not exhausted, by any means— she was still able to keep up, but she had to work at it. Maybe she shouldn’t have been surprised. She was a strong Gem used to gruelling work, but it was the muscles in the arms she focused on, not the legs. And between her work, the fight, and the trek, it had been a long time since she’d rested.

None of the rebels seemed the least bit uncomfortable, however. Not even Pearl.

The trees thinned, and, at last, they reached the crest of the hill, which broke off into a sheer cliff. Rose Quartz came to a halt. Bismuth did her best not to look _too_ relieved.

“This is it,” Rose Quartz said, gesturing to the horizon with a sweeping motion.

Bismuth raised an eyebrow.

It was dark, so she couldn’t exactly make out much. She could see a rolling landscape and where the cloud cover broke, a beautiful starscape. “Anything in particular I’m supposed to be looking at?”

“The light,” said Garnet.

And, true enough, among the darkness of the ground below, there was a single flickering light. A fire, most likely. Tiny, at this distance, but probably reasonably big up close.

“Neat,” said Bismuth, not sure what else to say.

“Humans made it!” Rose Quartz exclaimed, beaming with pride.

“Humans? You mean those bipedal animals that look like Gems? _They_ did that?”

Bismuth had never seen any humans herself, but some of the buildings she’d worked on had had carvings of different Earth lifeforms, including the humans. She knew that the remarkable similarity they bore to their own species had inspired interest among the elites, in particular Pink Diamond, who was supposedly building up a collection of them. She also knew Snowflake didn’t like them much at all, and that Biggs had them to blame-- or thank-- for her upcoming trial. But she’d figured that apart from appearance, they were like all other organic life that had sprung up across the galaxy: not particularly bright.

But producing fire? That _did_ require a bit of critical thinking.

“They’re very smart, and always so curious. They can make so many things,” Rose Quartz continued, practically bouncing with excitement. “Clothes, tents, knives, nets— they can even train other animals to follow instructions and help them! It’s astounding!”

Bismuth wouldn’t go _that_ far, but if this was all true… “Huh. That _is_ something I’d like to see.”

“You can!” Rose Quartz’s face was earnest. “That’s why we brought you here! So you can visit them!”

Bismuth scratched the back of her neck. “Listen, this is neat and all… but what exactly has this got to do with anything?”

“Because we’re going to protect them,” declared Rose Quartz.

“They’re refugees,” explained Pearl. “They used to live near the Kindergarten, but they ran out of resources they need to survive and had to move.”

“And they’ll have to keep moving as the draining effect spreads,” finished Garnet.

“It’s not _fair_ to let such intelligent, vibrant creatures die just for more Gems to live. Not when there are so many other suitable planets throughout the cosmos,” said Rose Quartz, eyes burning. “So we have sworn to protect the humans and earn their freedom, just as we will earn for all Gem kind!”

Bismuth cocked her head to the side, and carefully considered her next words. A large part of her wanted to say ‘ _That’s stupid_ ’, and explain exactly why, in excruciating detail. But that in itself would be stupid, so—

Suddenly, Garnet jerked, her third eye flying open. “GET DOWN!”

Rose Quartz and Pearl obeyed, just in time for knives to fly over their heads and miss, soaring over the edge of the cliff.

There was a moment of stunned silence before the follow-up attack came.

Snowflake, Crazy Lace, and Biggs roared out of the trees, a flash of pure muscle and steel. Crazy Lace took Garnet down in a tumble, the two of them nearly falling off the cliff. Snowflake was bearing down on Rose Quartz, sword drawn. And Biggs had positioned herself to cut Pearl out of the fighting, axe drawn and ready if necessary.

“STOP!” Bismuth yelled, but she wasn’t sure to which group. “DON’T—”

Nobody listened.

“We’ve got you, Bis!” Crazy Lace roared from the melee.

Garnet threw Crazy Lace off her, pinning her down in reprisal. The Quartz seemed momentarily dazed by the turn of things, but she was too experienced to stay stunned for long. She quickly used her superior strength to push the fusion off her. Taking another knife from her belt, she lunged at Garnet, who simply sidestepped each swipe as if she could see every attack coming—

— because she _could_. Crazy Lace was a good fighter, but she had no way of dealing with an opponent who could literally predict every attack she’d make.

Snowflake was having similar problems. Rose Quartz was, well, a _quartz_ , but she was a new model unfamiliar to Obsidian. Her fighting style wasn’t so much traditional attacking as— as dancing, light and immaterial as clouds, jumping over her opponent’s head and always staying just out of reach of the sword.

So Snowflake stopped attacking with her sword. Her gem flared black for a moment, her hand stretching out into a lance. Snowflake thrust it forward—

—A flash of pink. A _clang!_

The hand-lance struck against a shimmering pink sphere, which flickered for a moment, then vanished.

Rose Quartz smiled brightly, and counter attacked.

As for Biggs… Well, the newmade hadn’t made the same mistake Bismuth had made, ignoring the Pearl. She was making a different one: trying to _talk her down_.

“Hey there, little star,” Biggs was saying, her voice soft. Judging by her posture and the open, encouraging look on her face, she was trying to make herself seem as unthreatening as possible, all while carrying an axe easily twice the size of Pearl. “I bet you’re really scared, huh?”

To Bismuth’s surprise, Pearl nodded. Her eyes were huge, her lips trembled, her fingers played nervously on the hilt of a sword she suddenly didn’t seem to know how to properly hold.

“Come on then, and I’ll help bring ya back to your owner, okay? Now why don’t you give me that sword?”

Head bowed, Pearl stepped towards the smiling, eager form of Biggs.

Bismuth had just enough time to utter a yelp of warning, when Pearl plunged the sword right up through Biggs’ chest.

“You’re welcome to have it!” Pearl chirped, before pulling the sword back out. Biggs’s form dissipated, and Pearl ran through the smoke to join her teammates.

Bismuth dove for Biggs’s gem, holding it close to her chest. With her free hand she gripped the fallen axe, hoisting it up and getting back to her feet. Now, she had a weapon. Now, she had a means of pulling her own weight and defending herself properly. A means of fighting back, and of attacking...

But attack _whom_?

In the predawn light, the Gems were merely shadows. Flashes of pink and blue and red and black, moving so quickly and so close together that one could hardly be distinguished from another. Bismuth couldn’t run into the fray by hitting the wrong person by mistake— and, if she was being completely honest with herself, she wasn’t even sure who she _wanted_ to hit, if anyone...

Before she could choose, the decision was taken out of her hands. There was a grunt, and a scream, and two poofs of smoke, one right after the other.

When the mist faded, Rose Quartz, Garnet, and Pearl stood over the fallen gems of Snowflake Obsidian and Crazy Lace Agate.

“Well,” piped up Pearl, smiling widely at Rose Quartz, “that was fun.”

Garnet reached down to grab the two gemstones.

“No!” Bismuth stepped forward, axe up, Biggs still pressed close to her chest. “Don’t touch them!”

The fusion froze.

“Bismuth—” Rose Quartz began.

“I won’t let you shatter them!” Bismuth cried. “If you try, then—”

“Okay.” Garnet stood up, and stepped away.

“Okay?” Bismuth echoed, not lowering the axe.

“We weren’t going to hurt them,” Pearl said. “Well. No more than we already have.”

“We don’t shatter Gems,” said Rose Quartz.

Bismuth scowled. “What do you mean? Of course you do— all the raids, blowing up the Memorial of Life—”

“No one was shattered,” Rose Quartz said.

No. No one had been, Bismuth realized. She’d figured that was just incompetence on the rebels’ part. _Everyone_ thought it was incompetence.

Were they really doing it on _purpose_?

“How do you— but if you don’t—” Bismuth shook her head. “If you don’t shatter Gems, they just regenerate and attack you again.”

Garnet smirked. “Not if we’re gone by then.”

Okay. Not incompetence. Just stupidity again.

“Then you’re setting out for a war you’re sure to lose,” Bismuth said. “You’ll keep getting into fights with Homeworld about your ‘freedom’ or whatever— and even if you win, they’ll just keep coming back to fight, again and again, until you lose.”

“Do you _want_ us to shatter them?” Pearl asked, tilting her head towards her felled enemies.

“No!” Bismuth snapped. She let the axe fall, and quickly collected the quartzes’ gems, holding them in the relative safety of her arms. “I’m just saying.”

“We’re trying to find a better way,” Rose Quartz said. “We’ve got some ideas.”

In demonstration, she reached down to the grass, and plucked a flower that grew there. She cupped her hands around it—

— a little pink sphere formed, floating in the air.

“What’s that?” Bismuth asked, risking a step closer, curious.

“It’s called ‘bubbling’,” said Rose Quartz. “It’s a little tricky, but once mastered, it creates a suspension field. The flower could stay inside for years without wilting.”

“—or a gem inside, without regenerating,” Bismuth deduced, impressed. “But then, if you can do this... why haven’t you used it in any of your attacks?”

“Because if we bubbled everyone away, who would be left to share our message?” Rose Quartz asked.

‘ _Nobody’s sharing your message as is!_ ,’ Bismuth nearly snapped, but then she stopped herself. Maybe Gems were, she just hadn’t heard it yet. She didn’t really get out much, didn’t get close to a lot of folks. And you’d have to be real careful, talking about that kind of stuff. But maybe there were dainty-looking pearls, much like this one and still so wildly different, keeping their heads close as they made their way down hallways, whispering to each other about not giving back swords and daggers. Maybe there were little rubies passing secret notes to each other because no one would suspect them of being incendiary _that_ way. It was an odd, interesting thought, and one Bismuth didn’t quite know how to feel about yet.

As Bismuth was musing over this, Garnet decided to sit down and stretch out on the grass. A moment later, Rose Quartz followed suit. Pearl sighed, popped the bubble with a finger, and then snatched the flower before it fell. She placed it in Rose Quartz’s hair, a return of the earlier favor. Then she sat too, leaning against Rose Quartz’s shoulder for support.

Bismuth kept standing. Kept watching.

“It will no doubt be necessary to bubble Gems eventually,” Pearl said. “But we’ve avoided it so far.”

“And it wouldn’t be right,” Garnet said, propping herself up on her elbows. “Bubbling those who are just doing their jobs.”

“Just trying to protect someone they love,” Rose Quartz added, looking directly at Bismuth.

“Someone they... love.” Bismuth repeated the strange word. “What’s that mean?”

The Crystal Gems exchanged looks.

“It’s a human expression,” said Rose Quartz, which was no explanation at all. “It doesn’t have an exact equivalent…”

Pearl tapped her chin. “In simple terms, I suppose it means… ‘to care deeply for someone because you enjoy their company’.”

Bismuth’s face felt hot. “Well, that ain’t right, then. They’re quartzes. Good ones, too.  Why’d they care for the likes of me?”

“You’ll have to ask them that yourself.” Garnet smiled at her. Then she laid back down and stared up at the sky, which was beginning to melt into the lightest shade of pink.

Meanwhile, Pearl buried herself into Rose Quartz’s hair, the two of them starting a soft, giggly conversation.

Bismuth looked down at the gems in her arms.

The Crystal Gems had fought and defeated their attackers— and then just given their gems back to her. They weren’t even watching to see when they’d regenerate! Any untrained newmade quartz could reform and ambush them, just like that.

Absolutely hopeless.

Bismuth sat down next to them anyway, gently laying her quartzes down in her lap.

Her fingers twitched. She wasn’t good at just sitting and waiting and doing nothing, she never had been. She plucked a couple flowers out of the ground, and started twisting them around her fingers.

She couldn’t stop watching Rose Quartz and Pearl. They were laughing together, touching each other, acting like no boundaries existed between them at all. Was that what had possessed a Rose Quartz, one of Pink Diamond’s most beloved creations, to go running off into the middle of nowhere to fight for a random organic species? Was that what had made a tiny little Pearl pick up a sword and go charging into battle, and somehow _win?_

Bismuth wanted to ask, but the last time she’d tried to, she’d accidentally offended Pearl. Besides, it didn’t look like either of them would be able to answer now: they were busy doing some sort of sucking thing with each other’s mouths.

So she looked to the fusion instead, and asked, “What’s the deal with you two?”

Still on her back, Garnet gave her a sidelong glance. “Two?”

“Yeah.” Bismuth weaved the stems of the two flowers together, and plucked another couple. “You _are_ two Gems after all, just in one body.”

“Right now, I’m one.”

“Sure,” Bismuth said, deciding not to argue the point. “But _why_ are you in one body?”

“‘Cause I like it.”

Bismuth could already see the answer she’d get if she asked ‘why’ again, so instead she asked, “What’s it like?”

Garnet was staring up at the sky again. “Indescribable.”

Bismuth sighed as she joined a couple more flowers to the chain. “You’re not very helpful, are you?”

The fusion grinned, as if this was a compliment.

A silence fell, filled only by the chatter of morning birds and the persistent sucking-noises of Rose Quartz and Pearl. Bismuth checked on her quartzes, but none of them showed any sign of regenerating. Instead, she added more to her flower chain.

“I could show you,” Garnet suggested, eventually.

“Show me…?” asked Bismuth.

Garnet raised an eyebrow, and stretched an open hand out towards her. Bismuth recoiled, face hot as a forge. “Uhhhh….”

“Oh, stop teasing her,” Pearl said, apparently now finished with her lip-based embrace.

“Should I tease you, instead? Or perhaps _Rainbow Quartz?”_

Pearl’s cheeks turned the most vibrant shade of blue. Rose laughed. So did Garnet. And after a moment, Bismuth decided to join in too, even if she felt like she didn’t understand a third of what they were so amused by. And who was Rainbow Quartz? Certainly not a type of Gem Bismuth had ever heard of, and she could most definitely say she’d been around quartzes now--

There was a rustling in the bushes.

Everyone froze. Eyes scanned the leaves tensely. Pearl picked up her sword. Bismuth reached for the axe. They watched. They waited.

Out hopped a little white creature with big floppy ears.

“Oh,” said Pearl, lowering her blade.

“It’s _adorable_ ,” Rose Quartz crooned, as the thing twitched one of its ears at them.

“Rose…” Pearl said, sounding exasperated. “Not _again_.”

Rose Quartz stood up. The creature startled, and bounded away. Rose Quartz started after it.

_“Really?”_ asked Pearl.

“I want a closer look~!”

“So you’re just going to go trampling after it?”

“Yes!” Rose Quartz simply said, already disappearing into the trees.

_Was that a quartz thing,_ Bismuth wondered, _chasing after random organic creatures?_

Garnet finished her sky-staring and got up as well, heading off in the same direction as the hopping animal. “I’m going too.”

Pearl’s mouth hung open. “ _Garnet_ -”

“You should come too,” Garnet said, ducking under a branch. The sentence wasn’t phrased as an order, but there was a strange undercurrent that Pearl nonetheless seemed to obey.

“Oh, fine,” she muttered, but didn’t go before stopping to pick up the various fallen weapons left over from the earlier scuffle, storing them away in her gem.

She let Bismuth keep the axe.

Then all three of them were gone. Bismuth was left alone in the clearing, overlooking the cliff.

But not for long.

There was a dark purplish glow. Bismuth pulled herself away as the obsidian floated into the air. A hand formed first, arm stretching out from it, and then the rest of the torso following from there. She hovered for a moment, until the black and white sparkles resolved themselves into a body.

Snowflake looked all around her in quick, practiced movements, checking everything for signs of danger— and when she saw only Bismuth, sitting on the ground with a flower chain in her hand, she allowed herself to relax a fraction.

There was a question on Snowflake’s face. A fear Bismuth understood, and had shared in not too long ago.

“They’re here,” Bismuth said. She laid Crazy Lace and Biggs out next to her.

Snowflake nodded. She looked around once more, ever vigilant, just in case, and then knelt down on the Gems’ other side.

Neither of them felt the need to talk. Instead, Snowflake decided to follow Bismuth’s lead, and started to chain flowers together, too.

She was slower than Bismuth, clumsier. Her fingers weren’t used to such tiny, precise movements. But she was a quick learner, and a patient one. She watched Bismuth until she got it just right.

Bismuth liked this. Liked making something, all of her own design.

Once the chain was long enough, she decided to tie it off at the ends, making a circlet. Satisfied, she started on another.

She was about a quarter through, and the sky now a brilliant orange, when a new red light glowed beside them.

Crazy Lace wasn’t nearly so relaxed when she regenerated. She formed with an avalanche of questions on her lips, asking if Bismuth was okay, if Biggs was okay, then anxiously checking the newmade’s gem for any cracks or chips. Once satisfied that everyone was unharmed, she still didn’t want to sit down. She instead amused herself poking around the clearing, looking around the trees, staring out over the cliff.

“What’re those?” she asked, pointing towards a collection of dark shapes. The flickering light of the fire was still visible, but only barely.

“That’s where the humans live,” Bismuth said.

“Really? Huh. Guess that’s what all those little shapes are, then,” Crazy Lace said, watching the vaguely Gem-shaped silhouettes moving around down below. “They sure look different when they’re not inside a cage.”

Snowflake grunted. Maybe in agreement, maybe just because she was having trouble tying the two ends of her flower chain.

Bismuth reached over to help her. As she did, their hands touched. Snowflake didn’t bother to move away. Didn’t even flinch. The feel of her skin was… nice.

(Bismuth thought, suddenly, of Pearl and Rose Quartz, sitting so very close together, their mouths pressed against one another... and quickly backed away to finish her own chain.)

“We can’t go back, can we?” asked Crazy Lace.

Bismuth frowned. “Sure you can. You didn’t come back with the rebels, yeah, but surely you won’t be punished _too_ severely. No one else has managed to catch them yet, either.”

“Can’t,” Snowflake said. “Unauthorized mission.”

Bismuth stared.

“You went on an _unauthorized_ mission? _To get me?”_

Crazy Lace and Snowflake nodded.

“Are you completely **cracked**?!” Bismuth cried. “Why?”

“We weren’t going to leave you _captured_ in the hands of _traitors_!” Crazy Lace cried.

Snowflake reached out, and touched the axe sitting on the ground beside Bismuth. “You weren’t captured.”

It wasn’t a question. She knew.

“Not as such,” Bismuth admitted.

Snowflake didn’t say anything. Crazy Lace looked as though she didn’t know _what_ to say. And neither did Bismuth. She’d known, when she’d gone out, how dangerous her choice had been. For as much as she’d told herself she could easily lose the rebels and run back, she’d realized how unlikely actually returning, and surviving, and just going back to her cubby-fixing assignments like nothing had ever happened would be.

She hadn’t expected anyone else to be punished for her decision, though. She hadn’t expected the stupid, stubborn, impulsive, _astoundingly_ caring and loyal quartzes to come after her. Going out on an unauthorized mission would have been foolish at the best of times— but just hours before some big Diamond event? And with nothing to show for their efforts?

(Well. They’d bring back Bismuth, safe and sound. But even if Bismuth decided she did want to return, she wouldn’t be considered much.)

None of them could go back. And they had to have known that when they’d made the call to leave. But there were… other options. Choices to be made, strange and unexpected new paths to explore, together.

Bismuth sighed, long and hard, and finished the last flower circle.

Finally, when the sun was already halfway done steadily climbing the morning sky, Biggs reformed.

She spun around, clearly disoriented from her regeneration— this would be her first, Bismuth realised. No wonder it had taken so long.

“What’s going on?” she asked. “Are we safe? Where are the traitors?”

“Around,” said Bismuth, waving a hand in the direction of the trees.

“We’re safe enough,” said Crazy Lace. Bismuth’s mind went, unbidden, to all that she’d heard the two older quartzes discuss between themselves, tense and worried, careful of Biggs overhearing. The trials of the tournament, the unlikely at best and impossible at worst odds, the perfectly permitted and understandable callousness of a Diamond-

_Safe._

Snowflake took a couple of the flower circles from Bismuth’s lap and got up. She went to Crazy Lace, reached up, and dropped one of the crowns on Lace’s head. The other, she placed on her own. It was a little big and it dropped to half-cover her eyes, but she bore it as seriously as she would have any Diamond-grade military honor.

Lace smiled. Bismuth did, too.

Biggs Jasper just looked confused. “Why are we just… sitting here? Did we… escape?”

“Yeah,” Bismuth said, giving Biggs the last of the crowns. “I think we did.”


	4. Coda

The human looked— well, _impressive_ was the word that came to mind. Appreciably sturdy, especially when compared to the others Bismuth had seen milling about the settlement, going about their businesses, or running over to greet Rose Quartz whenever they saw her passing by. Not quite as large as the average quartz, and rather more top-heavy in build.

Bismuth felt a pang of what could only be described as familiarity. There was a wide, wide chasm between her and this human— a divide of thousands of years, a leap between light and stone and stars and flesh and blood and dirt and bone— but in that moment it seemed to have shrunk into a mere crack in the ground, so easy to step over.

So step Bismuth did.

The small structure she found herself in was clearly a workshop of some kind, and equally as clearly the source of the metallic, clanking sounds that had distracted Bismuth earlier. It was far warmer than the already warm, dry, sunny day outside. Darker, as well. The human was busy, muttering to herself, hastily prodding embers to life, and frowning at a long strip of metal in between quick hammer blows.

Bismuth found it hard to look away from the muted glow of the slowly cooling metal, or the tiny licks of flame from under the coal piled nearby. Dancing, like she’d seen Pearl and Garnet try to teach Snowflake to do. Dancing, like the petals Rose Quartz had showered Biggs with. Dancing, like Crazy Lace when—

The hammer stilled.

The human was looking at her a bit strangely, and Bismuth felt every bit of warm, glowy _rightness_ seep out of her. What had she been _thinking_ , following a stranger around, barging in on her work?

“I’m sorry to bother you, I’ll just— I’ll just go. Get out of your way and let you get on with your...”

Bismuth’s uncharacteristically clumsy scrambling to get out of the cottage was interrupted by the loud, sharp sound of the human… laughing?

She turned and met Bismuth’s eyes, the twinkle of amusement in them complementing the glint of reflected forgelight.

“You’re very quiet— and so still! Hard to call that a bother. Look at you— ha, do you even breathe?”

‘Quiet’ and ‘still’ weren’t exactly words Bismuth found applied to her very frequently, and breathing was something she hadn’t quite figured out yet... Though what that had to do with the matter at hand was anyone’s guess.

“You came here with Rose Quartz.”

It didn’t sound entirely like a question, but Bismuth still felt compelled to answer. “Yeah, I did.”

“She carries one of my daggers. I trust her. If she trusts you, I trust you too. And she’s helped us plenty, so I’ll help you. What did you need?”

“I—”

What _did_ she need?

“Do you want a knife of some sort? Need tips for your arrows? Needles? Clasps? I do a _lot_ here.”

Hearing the pride she took in her work in the human’s voice poured a pleasant, familiar warmth back into Bismuth’s chest.

She tried again.

“I want—”

What did she want?

“I want to—”

Oh, she knew what she wanted. She’d known for quite a while. The question was more… did she dare? Even with the way everything had changed, the insidious remnants of _that’s not what you’re_ **_for_ ** clung to her and made every step heavy.

“I want to learn. If... if you want to teach me.”

The human looked surprised, but not unpleasantly so.

“Oh? I haven’t had an apprentice in a while. And you? You look like you might just do.”

She clasped a large hand on Bismuth’s shoulder, and drew her in with surprising strength.

“Come closer, come on. This is where I do the copper— Wait, no, look out!—”

Bismuth froze, hand deep in the burning oven. She pulled it out at the blatant distress on the human’s face and held it awkwardly away from her side as it cooled, a wisp of vapor wafting up from it.

“How did you…? This is— ow!” Whatever the human had been so afraid of had clearly not come to pass, but she now seemed to regret her panicked grab at Bismuth’s hand, still tinted red from the heat. Her voice filled with what almost sounded like reverence. _“Amazing.”_

The broad grin that bloomed on her face was infectious, and Bismuth answered it with one of her own, even if she didn’t precisely know why.

“The two of us are going to do great things.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone for joining us on this prequel, we hope you enjoyed it.
> 
> And look forward to updates resuming on the main story Soon (TM).


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